[ Nel's vows were terse, practical, and deliberately avoided anything which could be interpreted as poetic. She never strayed a single word from the terms of their earlier agreement, forcing herself to swear to protect and be protected with a bitter bite on her tongue.

Exiting the Coven to breathe lighter air does not dispense with the unsettling feeling that she isn't going to be alone for a very long time, and her secrets aren't just hers anymore. Nel does not want to feel his happiness, however slight, and she does not want him to experience her toxic, addictive brand of righteous anger.

Too late. ]

Our contract is official, Creature. [ Severity is habit and security. Her lips pull tight into the thing he once described. ]

As to what I feel... I'm impressed. In one stroke, you've ensured that I will never have cause or the ability to sabotage you for as long as this stands. And vice versa, naturally.